


Chained

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:59:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray's in trouble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chained

His shoulders ached. The heat from the gash in his side and the chills that racked his barely clothed frame let Ray Doyle know that infection had set into the knife wound. Pale light leaking into the darkness surrounding him glinted off the bright silver links that tethered him to the basement wall. No one had been down to check on him for what felt like days. His mouth and throat ached with dryness. Sitting in the cold wetness of his own body’s betrayal he laughed darkly. At least there were no rats.

His eyes were drawn back to the shiny chain. He tried to move his arms. The rattle of the metallic links brought back a sharp irony. While chains were meant to bind he had always associated them with loss... 

_Girls giggling – his sisters. He listened to the steady rhythm of the chain hitting the tarmac in time to their laughing voices:_

_Sausage in a pan, sausage in a pan, sizzle, sizzle, sizzle, sizzle, sausage in a pan,  
Jelly on a plate, Jelly on a plate, Wibble, Wobble ,Wibble, Wobble, Jelly on a plate._

_He sat on the steps with his mum, watching the girls skip rope, sharing the custard tart she had baked in honour of his eleventh birthday. The lorry came around the corner. Too fast. His mother ran into the street to sweep the girls out of danger. Too slow. He watched in horror as she fell under the wheels, heard the chain, caught on the axle, clatter down the road. He ran to her side. “Mum!” She coughed and caught his hand. “The girls…ok?” He could only nod. She reached up and gently wiped custard from his chin. “Take care of them…” “I will, Mum. I will. Please… don’t go…”_

_Night. The rain made it hard to make out the figures surrounding him. “PC Doyle. Where are your friends now, eh?” He spun around quickly and felt the chain wrap around his neck. “Hold him.” He felt blinding pain in his face as the blows fell..._

_King Billy walked away from them, the chains decorating his leathers jangling loudly. Bodie taunted the thug and his gang. Disgusted at being used, feeling betrayed by Bodie’s lack of trust, he walked away…_

 

A cold gust of air raised shivers across his abused flesh. Voices called out. He heard footsteps moving heavily down the basement stairs. They’d come back for him, then. To finish him. He shuddered. It appeared that there was a funeral tied to his future - if someone found his body. 

He whispered, hoping somehow, wherever Bodie was, his partner would hear, “’m sorry, Bodie. Always thought we’d go together.”

The voices drew closer. With relief he recognised them. Cool hands touched his cheek. Fever bright eyes didn’t miss the desperate relief in the deep blue eyes that greeted him.

“And we will, old son. We will.” Bodie freed his arms. “But not today, yeah?”

The corner of Bodie’s mouth twitched as they spoke simultaneously, “You look terrible.”

**Author's Note:**

> written for lj's Tea & Swiss Roll Weekly Obbo Prompts: custard, funeral, chain


End file.
